


Not Broken, Just Bent

by SailorChibi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bobby Singer Deals With Idjits, Bobby Singer Lives, Bobby Singer is Dean and Sam Winchester's Father, Bunker Fluff, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Has Self-Worth Issues, Everyone lives, Fluff, Foursome, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Gabriel Lives, Grace - Freeform, Happy Ending, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester is a shit father, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kevin Lives, Kevin Tran Lives, Living in the bunker, M/M, Metatron Being a Dick, Multi, Panic Attacks, Season 10 Spoilers, Season 9 Spoilers, Sleeping Together, Supernatural and J2 Big Bang Challenge 2015, Tattos, Team Free Love, Well not everyone, anti-possession tattoo, but some angst before we get to that, but some select characters live, just sleeping together, metatron's meddling, no mark of cain, so much hugging, talking it out, the Winchesters having an actual conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 18:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4447970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just when things have finally settled into a state of just might be okay, Metatron resurrects John Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jessica Moore, Kevin Tran, and Jimmy Novak as a "sorry, please don't kill me" apology. Castiel is unsure as to how to handle his relationship with Claire now that Jimmy is back. Gabriel is dealing with Metatron. And Sam is dazzled by Jess. That, plus the pressure of dealing with an angry and unsettled John, leaves Dean terrified that what the four of them have built might still fall apart and he'll end up alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Broken, Just Bent

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first real shot at a Dean/Cas/Gabe/Sam fic. It was interesting. Team Free Love certainly gave me a run for my money in trying to make everything work out smoothly, but I am really pleased with how it turned out. I initially wanted to have Jo and Ellen come back too, but it turned into just too many characters and I had to scale it back.
> 
> The art for this fic was done by the amazing [blackrabbit42](http://blackrabbit42.livejournal.com/52385.html). I'm stunned and thrilled by what they produced.
> 
> Sincere thanks to [labyrinthinearchaeology](http://labyrinthinearchaeology.tumblr.com/) who answered my call for a beta! I remain a little embarrassed by the amount of spelling errors they had to put up with. The story is infinitely improved for their work.

One of the best things about the bunker, in Dean's opinion, was the ability to cook a decent meal. He smiled appreciatively as he opened the oven door and admired the simmering lasagna he'd spent a good two hours whipping together. The delicious smell of cheese, noodles, and meat wafted through the air and his tummy gave an appreciative growl. He couldn't wait to sink his teeth into the soft, saucy layers.

He poked carefully at the pan until it was turned, then shut the oven door and tossed the mitts down on the stovetop. It wouldn't be ready for another twenty minutes. He crossed to the fridge and got himself a beer, cracking the top off with ease. As he took a long drink, he heard a muffled _thump_ coming from somewhere inside the bunker. Dean cocked his head, listening.

"Sammy?" he called, waiting to hear his brother respond, but there was nothing. A little concerned, he set his beer down on the counter and reached for one of the pure silver knives he and Sam kept on the counter, disguised as kitchen knives. No visitors, not that they had any that didn't already know about hunting, ever needed to know that Dean never used them for cooking or baking.

The chances that someone, human or not, had actually broken into the bunker was rare. This place had fantastic warding, and Castiel had added to the sigils until the bunker was nigh impenetrable. But Dean had seen some pretty fantastic things over the years and very little surprised him anymore. He gripped the knife tightly and stepped out into the hallway, glancing up and down.

There was no one in sight, but he heard another _thump_ from the living room. Dean moved quickly but lightly, knife held up in front of him. If it was Sam, his brother would've said something by now. And if it was someone with a key that was allowed inside of the bunker, they would've called out to announce their presence. So either Sam had somehow managed to knock himself unconscious, or they had an intruder in the bunker.

Option one was taken off the list pretty fast. Just as Dean reached the door to the living room Sam stepped silently out of a room down the hall, holding his gun. The two brothers looked at each other. In the span of ten seconds, Dean communicated both his relief that Sam was okay and his intent to enter the living room. Sam nodded, his long legs quickly crossing the distance between them until he was on the opposite side of the door, ready to provide back up.

On a wordless, mouthed count of three, Dean stepped smoothly around the door. "Hold it!" he barked, knife held at the ready as Sam moved to stand beside him, gun up.

"Damn it, Dean!"

"Sam?"

Sam stiffened, the gun wobbling slightly, as Dean's eyes widened in disbelief. There were four people standing in the room. People he recognized, but it felt like his mind was having a hard time actually absorbing them. Only instinct kept the knife up and ready, because otherwise shock would've driven him to let his arms fall.

"It is you..." Jessica Moore took a nervous step forward, her eyes falling to the knife and gun the two brothers held. She stopped short when Dean twitched the knife, though she didn't look afraid.

"The hell are you?" Dean said gruffly, eyes darting from one familiar face to another. Dead faces. John Winchester. Bobby Singer. Kevin Tran. Jess. His knees were threatening to buckle.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Dean, it's us. Really us. Go ahead." He offered an arm, rolling up his sleeve.

Dean inched closer, just close enough to swipe Bobby's arm with his knife. There was no reaction, just a thin line of red blood and a slight grimace. Sam was right behind him with holy water, which he splashed into Bobby's face. Bobby sputtered a little and wiped at his eyes, but he wasn't smoking. None of the new arrivals reacted when Dean muttered the Latin name of God under his breath either.

But that didn't really prove anything, did it? Angels were impervious to salt, holy water, iron and silver. So were some high level demons and Leviathans. The tests they could perform were endless, but Dean could really only think of one way to prove whether or not he and Sam were going to have to gank some monsters wearing the faces of their family and friends. 

He glanced at Sam, who had yet to take his eyes off of Jess, and said, "Sammy."

"Yeah," Sam said, not once looking away. "Go ahead. I got this."

"Dude, there's four of them and one of you."

"Then lock us up in the dungeon and get a move on," Kevin said, crossing his arms and sounding supremely pissed as he eyed Sam warily.

"Get a move on with what?" John asked, the sound of his deep voice causing both of his sons to freeze.

Bobby punched him in the shoulder. "Until they know we're for real, it's none of our business. Get your ass moving, Winchester." He sounded like he wasn't willing to entertain arguments. John scowled deeply but obeyed, which was unsettling. Dean couldn't remember the last time his father had bowed to anyone.

In the end, Sam ushered Bobby, John, Kevin and Jess into an empty bedroom and shut the door. He gently took Dean's knife out of his hands and said, "Go. Go on. The door's locked. I'm good."

"You're good," Dean said numbly. He clapped Sam on the shoulder and walked away on numb legs. He didn't remember traversing the bunker, or climbing the stairs or undoing the locks or opening the door. It was like he suddenly found himself outside, where it was misting, and the cool dampness on his face shocked him back to awareness.

He shuddered, four faces tumbling through his mind. Four faces he had last seen still and silent in death, now reanimated. Four people that he and Sam had mourned were now alive. It was too incredible, too far-fetched to be real. It had to be a trick of some kind. He stared down at the ground, which was so wet that any footprints would've shown, but there were none. Had the four of them really just _appeared_ in the middle of the bunker?

"Cas. Gabe," he whispered, barely summoning up enough strength to actually say the words, and it was like saying their names made it all real. He felt his knees finally give out.

Dean never hit the ground. A set of hands grabbed him on either side, holding him up, and he knew that Castiel and Gabriel were worried and trying to ask him questions, but he couldn't understand what they were saying, never mind find the breath to speak. Or any breath at all, really. His shaking quickly got out of control and then he was gasping, his lungs too tight to accept any air. 

One of the hands on his left arm tightened to the point of pain, and then a cool tingling sensation swept through him. His body relaxed, the tension flowing out of him; it was a good thing that he was already being held up, or he would've hit the mud like a sack of bricks. His head lolled back on his shoulders and he looked into Gabriel's eyes, which were still glowing faintly. 

"Dean," Gabriel said, uncommonly gentle. "What happened? Where's Sam?"

"He's good. In there," Dean managed to get out, jerking his head towards the bunker. The door was still open, and warm golden light was spilling out from inside. It looked so inviting. But Dean knew what was in there: the potential for more grief and heartbreak. He started to tremble again.

"Cas, you got him? I'll go." Gabriel only let go when Castiel's arms were firmly around Dean's waist. He turned and strode towards the bunker, his angel blade sliding down into his hand as he went.

"Shh, Dean. It's okay," Castiel said softly, carefully turning Dean around. Dean sank into his angel, pressing his face against Castiel's collarbone. The material of the trench coat was rough against his cheek, but he didn't care; it was familiar. He brought his hands up and grabbed onto Castiel, fisting his hands in the cloth.

Castiel pressed a kiss to the top of Dean's head and then the rain stopped falling on them. Dean didn't bother to lift his head to see how or why. He stayed where he was, savoring the heat that was pouring off of Castiel, and tried to come to terms with the events of the past ten minutes. Maybe it was just a weird dream. Maybe he'd called their angels and freaked out over nothing.

He didn't know how long he and Castiel stood outside for, but his clothing and hair were dry by the time Gabriel came back outside. It was hard not to sense the archangel's grace now; just like Castiel's grace, it reached out for him or Sam anytime they were within reach. Dean hadn't bothered to ask why. He felt it now as a gentle touch of fingertips skimming down his arm, barely there but comforting nevertheless.

"It's them," Gabriel said, not bothering to beat around the bush. "I can see it in their souls. John Winchester, Bobby Singer, Kevin Tran, and Jessica Moore," he added, likely for Castiel's benefit. "Fresh from heaven."

"Are you sure?" Castiel asked.

"Never been so sure of anything in my life, baby bro. Sam made me check. A lot." Gabriel closed the distance between them then, resting his hands on Dean's hips. The extra dose of heat was much appreciated and Dean leaned back into him a little, reluctantly lifting his head to speak.

"You shouldn't have left Sammy."

"He wanted me to, Princess. I made him promise that he wouldn't open the door until we got back. It's in his best interest. I left your father freaking out after I appeared in the room and then disappeared. I'm pretty sure Bobby hates me now." Gabriel was smirking, Dean could tell. He rolled his eyes.

"Bobby didn't know you well enough to hate you before, but you're right. He probably does now," he agreed, amused in spite of himself. "How did this happen?"

"That's a good question," Castiel said grimly. "I sense we are not going to like the answer."

Dean closed his eyes briefly. There wasn't much out there capable of resurrecting humans, especially now that the angels had fallen from heaven. Death was capable of it, but Dean hadn't seen the old man around since Death had restored Sam's soul and he doubted that Death would be cropping up now. Demons could through a deal, but the only person who had someone that loved them that much was probably Kevin. And he didn't think Linda Tran would sell her soul for her son. God could do it, of course, but that bastard was still MIA.

"It was Metatron, wasn't it?" he mumbled.

"That does seem like the most likely answer. He's the only one with access to heaven and human souls right now." Gabriel sounded upset about that and Dean twisted around to wrap an arm around his shoulders even though the awkward position made his back ache.

It turned out that Metatron had had a hand in bringing Gabriel back; the archangel had been hanging around for years, not quite _there_ , until Metatron's stupid little story gave Gabriel the power he needed to become whole. But he was still really weak, and that was before it had taken most of what Gabriel had to get Castiel's grace back. Both of them were still recuperating, so the coup against heaven and Metatron hadn't been staged yet. Dean had the feeling that it was going to happen much faster now, if Metatron was randomly bringing humans back to life.

"Just gives you one more reason to kick his ass," he pointed out, pressing a shy kiss to the side of Gabriel's mouth. 

"I can't think of anything I want to do more," Gabriel admitted, squeezing Dean's hips before he stepped back. "Are you ready to go back inside?"

No. All Dean really wanted to do was stand here between the only angels he trusted, but he wanted his brother here too so that Sam could wrap his gigantor arms around all three of them. He sighed. "Yeah, I guess. They've probably got lots of questions." By which he meant his dad was probably ready to tear the bunker down.

"Will you let Kevin leave?" Castiel asked, releasing Dean slowly. Reluctantly. Dean couldn't help kissing him, too, before he shrugged.

"I don't think we can stop him. Kid deserves to go spend some time with his mom now that Crowley won't be hunting for him anymore." He didn't add that Kevin was probably a thousand times safer as far away from the Winchesters as he could get. They'd already gotten the kid killed once and Kevin deserved a hell of a lot better than that.

"Dean..." There was sympathy written on Castiel's face. He hadn't known Kevin well, but he'd been the one to answer Dean's heartbroken call the night Gadreel killed him. Dean's throat hurt again, feeling just a little too tight.

"Come on." He turned, instead of throwing himself back into Castiel's arms, trudging through the mud to the bunker door. The angels followed and, once they were safely inside, Dean shut and locked the door. It was comforting to know that, for at least a couple of minutes, almost his whole family was in one place. Only thing that could've made it better was Charlie's presence. 

Sam was still outside the closed door, arms folded, leaning against the opposite wall and trying to stare a hole through the door to the bedroom. Presumably without success, unless he'd developed x-ray vision in the past twenty minutes. Gabriel went to him, sliding a hand down Sam's arm in invitation, because Sam wasn't like Dean; he didn't always want to be touched or held. And right then, Sam shifted away from the offer.

Gabriel backed off, mouth quirking into a smile. "They try to beat down the door yet?"

"Let's just say it's a good thing that my dad didn't have a shotgun, or you'd have some new bullet holes," Sam said wryly. "Dean?"

"I'm fine, Sammy," Dean said, letting himself lean into Castiel just a little. It was still something of a novelty that he could do that. 

For once Sam took him at his word. They had more important things to deal with. He jerked his chin towards the door. "If this is really happening, we're gonna have some problems."

"Yeah." Dean sighed. John Winchester had died long before the Apocalypse, never mind everything else that had happened since then. There was so much he had missed out on, so much that had to be explained, and it wasn't likely John would be welcoming to much of it. Bobby, at least, would listen with open ears. Kevin wouldn't be an issue, but Jess? Jesus, the poor girl hadn't known _anything_. Dean did not envy his brother right then.

Of course, because Sam would be busy with Jess, that meant he was the one who got to deal with John and, to a lesser extent, Bobby. Suddenly his own position wasn't looking so great either. Especially since there was one very big thing in particular that had changed since the death of those two men.

Sam caught his eye, knowing in an instant what his brother was thinking. Of course he did. Dean chewed his bottom lip, fighting against the desire to lash out at something. It wasn't fair. They were finally getting to a point where things were sort of good. Metatron and Crowley were still an issue, but they were feeling it all out, this weird rectangle (except it wasn't a rectangle, not really, because they all intersected at multiple points and that's why it worked) and now there was this.

The thought of admitting to his father that he was bisexual and dating a guy was enough to make Dean feel the sharp bite of panic looming again. The thought of admitting to a four-way relationship that was all male and included his own baby brother was piss your pants material.

Unconsciously, he rubbed at his arm where the Mark of Cain had been. Turned out being claimed by an archangel and an angel was enough to burn the curse out of existence. Logically he knew that it wasn't going to come back, but sometimes it still felt like the Mark was hanging over his head. He jumped when Castiel pressed a hand down over his with a warning look; he didn't like it when Dean tormented himself with thoughts of the Mark. Dean contemplated railing against that look for just a second, but subsided.

"This will have caused a distortion in heaven. I should go try to see if I can figure out what happened," said Gabriel. 

"You think you can get up there without attracting anyone's attention?" Sam asked.

"Should be able to. Metatron's the only one up there right now, and he's too caught up in his own egomania to realize what's going on."

"Be careful," Castiel said, and Dean caught the hint of longing in his eyes. 

Gabriel tipped his head in acknowledgement and vanished without so much as a goodbye. Sam turned back to the door and finally unlocked it. Dean swallowed hard, trying to prepare himself as the door swung open. The pressure of Castiel's hand against his increased briefly, grounding him, before it slipped away. They were standing close enough, though, that Dean risked grabbing it again behind their backs. He was pathetic enough to need the contact. 

"What the hell is going on?" John barked the second the door was open, charging out. He looked around, tensing when he saw Castiel. "Who -"

"If you'd stop yapping, maybe we'd get some answers," Bobby said wearily. "Cas."

"Bobby."

"Sam, what's going on? Where are we?" Jess asked. She was dressed, presumably, the way she had been when she died: in a silky negligee that was a pale pink color. Her feet were bare and her curly blonde hair spilled around her shoulders, which were covered with goose bumps. Even cold and scared, she was beautiful.

"Jess," Sam said, maybe a little reverently, and held a hand out to her. Jess took it, stepping closer, letting Sam settle an arm around her shoulders. She reached up, tentatively placing a hand on Sam's cheek and staring into his eyes.

"You look so much older," she said quietly. "Babe..."

"I'll tell you everything." Sam's voice cracked as he put a hand on her hip. 

The flash of jealousy wasn't unexpected, but it hit a lot harder than Dean thought it would. Sam was _his_ , _theirs_ , a hard won battle. It had never been like this, so sweet and easy, Jess tugging Sam into a hug that Sam just... fell into. Dean was reminded all over again of how good the two of them looked together. Next to Sam, Jess looked petite and almost delicate. But she was fiery, snappy, and sexy and it would be way too easy for Sam to go right back to that apple pie life.

After all this, just when Dean had started to think that he could stop worrying about Sam leaving, he was watching it happen right in front of him.

"Come on," Sam said, clearing his throat with effort. His head was tipped away from them, but Dean was pretty sure he was crying. He pulled Jess along with him down the hall and when they turned the corner out of sight Dean wanted to throw up.

"That was super touching," Kevin said, crossing his arms. "Can I go now?"

From one thing to another. Dean rubbed his free hand over his face. Even though he'd seen this coming, it still stung. But family or not, they didn't have any right to keep Kevin here. "Yeah. Go ahead. Cas will take you wherever you wanna go."

"I want to find my mom."

Castiel nodded and, unseen, released Dean's hand after another squeeze. He moved towards the door and Kevin followed without even a glance for Dean, leaving Dean alone with John and Bobby. 

"Dean?" Bobby said the instant they were gone.

"I need a beer," Dean said, jerking his head for them to follow. The walk to the kitchen didn't feel nearly long enough. He turned the oven off and yanked out his ruined lasagna, dumping the burned mess in the garbage. Then he grabbed three beers from the refrigerator and slid two of them across the table as he sat down. He cracked his own open and took a long swallow. It was icy cold and helped to get his mind working.

"There's a lot you've both missed out on. Especially you, Dad. Too much to go over in just one day. Basically what you need to know is that the Azazel - the Yellow Eyed Demon - is dead. The Apocalypse almost happened, but Sammy and I managed to avert it. And angels are real."

John was speechless. It was a good look on him. Bobby said, "The Leviathans?"

"We managed to gank Dick," Dean replied. "So they're gone now. Fell apart without their leader. We have something new to deal with. Metatron. He kicked all of the angels out of heaven, Bobby." Just saying made him tired all over again. It was always something new. "Gabe snuck upstairs to see if he could figure out what happened, but since Metatron is the only one up there it's gotta be him."

"I thought Gabriel was dead," Bobby said.

"Metatron," Dean said simply, tipping his beer back again. 

"Angels," John said finally, practically spitting the word out. "That's..."

"Cas is an angel. So is Gabe. Castiel and Gabriel," Dean amended. It felt a little weird to say Castiel's full name. "They're real, Dad. Believe me. We've been down this road before."

"I just..." John put a hand to his head, looking overwhelmed. "The last thing I remember is selling my soul so that you'd be okay. How long ago was that?"

"About ten years," Dean admitted.

"Ten years," John repeated faintly. 

Dean looked down at his beer and shook it. There wasn't much left. He drained the rest of it and then got up. At this rate he was going to need a few more.

It wasn't until he was alone in bed that night that the reality of the situation really hit Dean. He and Bobby - thank god for Bobby, seriously - had mostly gotten John caught up on the Apocalypse. There were a few details that Dean had left out, like the fact that he'd sold his soul to save Sam's life, or that Sam had been sleeping with a demon and drinking demon blood, or that Dean had actually thought about giving up and letting Michael in.

He figured that the Apocalypse was really the most important thing for his father to know about, and so Dean had been even more brief about what happened afterwards. Some things, like the time that Sam had spent without his soul and Castiel's betrayal, were best left in the past where it belonged. It wasn't necessary to drag all of their dirty laundry out in front of John. Either Bobby agreed, or had decided to leave it to Dean's discretion, because he didn't elaborate on any of the details that Dean didn't mention.

John accepted everything he was told with so much grace that he had to be in shock. Not that Dean blamed him. It was a lot of information for one man to get in such a short period of time. But there was really no easy way to deliver a blow like that, either. Hopefully it would take his father at least a couple of days to absorb it all, and in the meantime maybe Gabriel would come back with an explanation. 

Because what if this resurrection was only temporary? Shit, that would just kill Sam. Dean sank down onto his bed, staring at his hands. Losing Jess had nearly done Sam in the first time around and he couldn't help remembering what had happened the last time some loved ones had been mysteriously resurrected. The last thing he wanted was to watch his dad and Bobby turn into zombies and he could tell that Bobby had been thinking the same thing all night.

He shuddered at the thought of having to blow either one of them, or Kevin, or Jess, away. He didn't think he could do it. And there wasn't much that Dean couldn't do. At the same time, he had no clue what they would do if it was permanent. Kevin was fine, because he was back with his mom. Bobby wouldn't do too badly; he'd always been a tough son of a bitch. Given time, even John would probably acclimate eventually and go back to hunting. But Jess had been dead for something like twelve years now, and she wasn't a hunter.

No, she was just another person who'd died because of an association with the Winchesters.

Dean's throat hurt and his eyes burned no matter how hard he blinked. Jess would do well to get as far away as she could, but the real question was whether or not she'd take Sam with her. It hadn't been so long ago that Dean was trapped in Purgatory while his brother was living it up with another woman. Granted, Dean was positive that what Sam had with Amelia was only a fraction of what he had with Jess... but now Sam had the chance to get that back.

And why wouldn't Sam want that? How could a fucked up relationship involving his older brother and two angels possibly compare to Jessica Moore and everything she represented? That apple pie lifestyle that Sam coveted, the one where the hardest decision was what house to buy or whether they should have another kid. Sam still wanted that, and if he stayed at the bunker there was a good chance he was never going to get it.

His shaking got worse and he wrapped his arms around his body, trying to hold himself together. It was foolish and weak, but he couldn't stop himself from whispering, "Cas."

It took about five minutes. The angels couldn't fly in and out of the bunker, not with all of the warding that the Men of Letters had put up; so Castiel and Gabriel had to land outside and then physically open the door and enter. Dean didn't look up when he heard his door open, but a moment later there were warm, familiar hands on his shoulders. Castiel pushed him down and then laid down beside him, pulling Dean into his arms. Dean clutched him desperately, but it wasn't enough. The bed felt empty without Sam and Gabriel.

"Kevin's mother was very excited to see him," Castiel said, and it took Dean a few seconds to process the words and understand what they meant. That Castiel was giving him something else to focus on. He seized it gratefully.

"Yeah? Was she surprised?"

"Very much so. She is now living in a small apartment in Chicago. You and Sam taught her well; her apartment is heavily warded and she did a series of tests on Kevin and myself before she would let us in," Castiel told him, pulling the covers up over their bodies. Dean was still shaking. "Both of them were very emotional. She hugged Kevin repeatedly."

There was something awkward about the way Castiel said that. Dean chuckled when he figured it out. "She hug you too, Cas?"

"Yes," he admitted. "I didn't like it very much."

"Good. No one should be hugging you but us," Dean said, squirming a little closer. Sometimes he wished it was possible to get right inside his lovers, and this was one of those times. The physical contact that came from lying beside each other just didn't seem like it was enough. Then their clothing disappeared, which definitely helped, even if it meant that Castiel was probably reading his mind again. 

Finally, his shaking started to slow as the warmth settled into his bones. He closed his eyes and pressed his face against Castiel's chest, picturing the reunion between Kevin and Linda. Part of him wished he could have been there to see it, because Linda had looked so defeated the last time he and Sam saw her. It would've been nice to see her face light up.

"What's gonna happen?" he mumbled sleepily.

"I don't know," Castiel said, and he sounded sad, like he wished that he did know the answer. No doubt he was also remembering the zombie invasion. "We'll have to wait for Gabriel to come back."

"But what if it turns out they're staying?"

"I don't know, Dean."

Dean chewed his bottom lip restlessly. He wanted to ask whether Castiel thought Sam would leave, but he was afraid of the answers. Besides, Castiel hadn't seen Sam back then. They didn't know how happy and carefree Sam had looked. Logically he knew that one way or another, Azazel would've driven Sam away from that life and back into hunting. But that didn't change the fact that there were days he regretted going to his brother for help.

It took him a long time to fall asleep, and even with Castiel's presence close by to soothe his nightmares, he didn't sleep well. He woke up every time the angel so much as twitched and finally gave up sleeping all together when Castiel's phone rang not long after six. Castiel shifted, giving him an apologetic look as his phone appeared in his hand. He squinted at the screen.

"It's Claire," he noted with surprise, lifting the phone to his ear.

"She okay?" Dean said uselessly, already knowing where this was going, not at all surprised to see Castiel's expression change to one of worry. It wasn't very often that Claire reached out to them. Her relationship with Castiel had gotten a lot better over past year, but she still found it hard - and she only really contacted them when something was wrong. 

"Claire?" Castiel said into the phone. "What - oh." His blue eyes widened. "I see." The hand he had on Dean's hip tightened to the point where Dean sucked in a breath, but he didn't tell Castiel to let go. "I understand. It's okay. Text me your coordinates and I'll be there shortly."

"What?" Dean asked the second he hung up.

"It's Jimmy. He's alive."

" _Jimmy_?"

"Claire said he showed up right outside her motel room last night. She refused to let him in, thought he was a hallucination, but he was still there this morning." Even though he was talking, Castiel sounded like he was miles away already. 

"How is that... I mean you're..." Dean gestured to him.

"I don't know. Whatever force brought your father, Bobby, Jess and Kevin back must have been strong enough to produce a new vessel for Jimmy. I have to go, Dean. Claire is upset."

"Can't blame her," Dean muttered. Poor kid was probably still coming to terms with her dad's death, and now he was standing on her front porch. If that had been enough to freak Dean out after everything he'd seen, it was a wonder that Claire was still coherent enough to make a phone call.

He watched as Castiel sat up and then stood. Somewhere in between his clothing appeared, trench coat and shoes included. His cell phone beeped, presumably with Claire's location. Castiel glanced at it and then slipped his phone into his pocket, turning back to Dean.

"Will you be okay?"

"I'm fine, Cas. Just one more weird thing to add to an already long list," Dean said, forcing a smile. Claire needed Castiel way more than Dean did. Besides, it was probably for the best that Castiel not be around when John was still getting used to the idea of angels. He wouldn't have put it past his father to shoot Castiel a couple of times just to see what would happen.

"You can call me if you need me. You know I will hear your prayers."

"I know. Tell Claire I said hi."

"I will." Castiel hesitated briefly, then kissed him and walked out.

Dean didn't watch him go. It was too hard. He sat there on the bed until he was sure that Castiel was gone, would be on his way to Claire, and only then did he get up and find some clothes. He was tired after a shitty night's sleep, but at least now he had a somewhat clear plan of action. Sam could look after Jess, and Kevin was taken care of, which meant he just had to deal with John and Bobby.

Chances were Bobby would be pretty understanding; Dean would just have to get him along, bring him fully up to date, and that would be that. Bobby was used to how fucked up things had gotten ever since the angels started coming around. Being brought back to life probably wouldn't throw him off too much - though knowing Bobby, he'd be more interested in all of the lore the Men of Letters had collected.

John was more of a wildcard. For as long as Dean could remember, his dad had been driven by his desire to kill Azazel for what he'd done to Mary. And that whole thing had been laid to rest years ago. Not to mention, the world had changed a lot since John's death. The Apocalypse, angels, Purgatory, the Leviathan, the Men of Letters... the list went on and on. As helpful as his journal had been to Dean and Sam at times, there was just _so much_ John had missed.

He found himself staring at one of the few pictures on his nightstand. It was a photo that Jody had snapped one day, and showed Dean, Sam, Gabriel and Castiel sitting around the table sharing a pizza and beer - though in Gabriel's case, he was drinking a cocktail. There was nothing overtly sexual about the photo. Couldn't have been. Not with Jody, Alex, and Charlie in the bunker.

But there was something intimate about it. About the way that Sam and Castiel had their heads together, geeking out over some tome that Dean couldn't remember now. About the way Gabriel was smirking at him, eyes alight with playfulness, and how the Dean in the picture was grinning back, like they were sharing some stupid joke. In how, under the table, there were four sets of legs all tangled up until you weren't really sure whose leg was whose.

This was one of his favorite pictures just because it was one of those rare times when everything was pretty good. They'd reached a state of equilibrium and moved on to exploration, to how Dean liked being on the bottom and Castiel liked to watch and Sam liked to lick and Gabriel liked to just be in the middle of it all and bask in the sensation, and there was still some uncertainty and shame but that just made it all feel more _real_.

It was wrong, though, and John would freak if he found out. Dean's hands were shaking a little when he turned away to put his belt on. Fortunately, that was private, anyway. No one knew, though Dean was pretty sure that Charlie had some suspicions. She hadn't said anything, but Charlie was smart. She noticed things that other people just glossed over, and she knew Dean way too well. The little sister he'd never asked for but somehow ended up with anyway.

So maybe it was for the best that Gabriel and Castiel were gone and Sam was distracted. They wouldn't have to worry about hiding anything; there'd be nothing to hide. He pushed aside the pang of loneliness and grabbed a shirt as he headed out of his room. As he neared the kitchen, he heard several voices, including Sam's. His stomach tightened with nerves but he kept going, because the bunker was _their_ home and he'd be damned if he'd let anything change that.

Sam was standing in front of the stove, but before Dean had the chance to get alarmed he realized that Sam wasn't cooking. Jess was. She wasn't wearing the negligee anymore, but the jeans fit well enough that they likely belonged to Charlie. The huge sweatshirt, though, that was so big it hung off one shoulder and had to be rolled up in the sleeves was definitely Sam's. It dwarfed Jess, the hem hanging down well below her hips, and for a split second Dean hated her.

"Oh, hey, Dean," Sam said when he was jostled out of the way by Jess's pointy elbows. He fell back against the sink, grinning like a maniac. "Where's Cas?"

Dean folded his arms across his chest, casting a quick glance at the table, but there was no sign of Bobby or John. "Claire called. Apparently we weren't the only ones who got unexpected visitors last night. Jimmy showed up."

"Shit," Sam breathed, his smile falling. "Is she okay?"

"I dunno. Cas went to go see." Dean dropped his head, well aware of his brother's scrutiny.

"You could've gone too, Dean. I'm capable of holding down the fort."

"She's not my kid, Sam," Dean said, which was the truth, though telling himself that did very little to quell the protective instinct that shot through him whenever he was around Claire or Krissy. Like he wanted to hide them away somewhere safe; if that wasn't parental instinct he didn't know what was. 

Sam pursed his lips together, but apparently decided to drop it. "I explained things to Jess last night."

"Everything?"

"Everything," Jess said, speaking for the first time since Dean had walked into the kitchen. She turned around, revealing a stack of waffles and a platter piled high with bacon and sausages. Her eyes looked a little glassy, maybe from shock or fatigue. "Whenever Sam refused to talk about his family life, I had no idea it was because it was... convoluted. I can't believe I was dead. I can't believe my mom and dad still think I'm dead."

Dean winced, seeing the same reaction reflected in Sam's face. "Yeah, I don't think they'd take it very well," he said awkwardly, accepting the platters when she shoved them in his face. "And, uh, it's safer for them not to know."

"Sam told me," Jess said, which wasn't really an indicator of whether or not she agreed with it. "You're a hunter. You couldn't have taken care of that demon on your own?"

Her voice was so sharp that Dean floundered, darting a panicked look at his brother. But if he'd been expecting Sam to step in, he was in for a rude awakening. Sam licked his lips but kept quiet, and right now Dean really kind of hated them both. Let them leave and go back to their perfect life; he was just fine with the two angels. 

Provided, of course, that Castiel and Gabriel came back. That Castiel didn't decide he liked it better with Claire and Jimmy, and that Gabriel wasn't needed to smooth things over in heaven when Metatron was finally evicted. Dean felt like he was going to throw up.

Jess sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me," she said, not unkindly, and took the platters back from him to put them down on the table. "Sit down, both of you."

It seemed safest to obey. Dean sank into a chair. The table was already set. Jess put down some fruit and syrup and then poured them each a cup of coffee before she joined them. Neither she nor Sam reached for any of the food, and it was too weird to be the first one to do it no matter how tempting the bacon smelled. Dean linked his hands in his lap and bounced his knee, nervous.

A couple of minutes dragged by that felt endless before Jess broke the silence. "I know that Sam has more to tell me. I just... need time to absorb it all."

"No one is asking you for anything else," Sam rushed to say, putting his hand on top of hers and squeezing gently. "This is a huge shock for you. I wanted to keep this side of my life a secret for a reason, Jess. I didn't want you to have to know what's really out there."

"I get it. But you still should've told me," Jess said. She pulled her hand away and put a waffle on her plate. Then she put one on Dean's. She paused, staring at him. "I'm not mad at you."

"Could've fooled me," Dean said automatically.

Strangely, her mouth quirked up into a faint smile. "I needed to snap at someone. Sam gets that kicked puppy dog look on his face when I do."

"I do not!"

Dean raised an eyebrow, because even Sam had to know that was a pile of shit, and watched Sam crumble in on himself and pout. "Sam's right. You can stay here as long as you want. There's lots of room. No one's gonna bother you. Just... don't go into any of the storerooms or touch anything that looks weird."

She looked intrigued. "Why not?"

"There's all kinds of dangerous crap," Dean replied. He hesitated. Jess was whipping back and forth so quick he wasn't sure how to handle it. But maybe... "We, um. There's this girl we know, Charlie, she's kinda like our little sister. I could call her. See if she could drop by. She kinda got thrown into our world, too."

"Was she killed and then mysteriously brought back to life several years later?" Jess asked wryly.

"Not as far as I know."

Jess lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Sure. I always did want to meet more of Sam's family." She pinned Sam with a weird look, and yup, there was that kicked puppy dog look. Jess seemed impervious if the way she started cutting into her waffle was any indication.

Dean breathed out, feeling like he'd just sidestepped a possible landmine, and took his phone out. He shot off a quick text to Charlie and then dug into his breakfast. Halfway through, first Bobby and then John came in to join them. It was easily the weirdest breakfast Dean had ever been a part of, like some sort of twisted glimpse into what might have been if the angels had kept their hands to themselves.

Sam kept sneaking these little looks at Jess like he thought he was being super suave about it. John was way more open about it, his eyes flicking back and forth. And then he opened his mouth. "So, Sam, is this the girl you sent me that wedding invitation for?"

Hot coffee did not feel good going the wrong way down. A couple hard thumps on the back from Bobby's fist saved Dean a trip up to heaven. He choked and coughed, staring at Sam. A wedding invitation? But then that meant...

"You were _engaged_?" he wheezed.

"Yeah," Sam said, shaping the word reluctantly with another glance at Jess. "It was pretty far off in the future... I wanted to have the first couple years of law school behind me, at least. It wasn't a real wedding invitation... I just wanted Dad to have some idea of when it was going to happen..." He trailed off, Sam with his fake excuses about a goddamn _wedding_ , and suddenly Dean couldn't sit there anymore.

He shoved his chair back and got up, walking out of the kitchen. It didn't escape his notice that no one called him back, not even Sam. This was the last revelation he'd been expecting to get. Suddenly he was seeing Sam's grief after Jess's death in a whole new light. Not just a girlfriend, but a fiancée. It was amazing how a ring could make that much difference, but somehow it did.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't sit in there with Sam and his fucking fiancée, with his dad and the weight of disapproval just waiting to be slammed back on Dean's shoulders. He just couldn't. 

"Dean!" Bobby caught up to him just as Dean made it to the stairs. He was panting a little. "Slow down, ya idjit."

"I'm not in the mood to talk, Bobby."

"Well that's too damn bad, Princess. You wanna go off and have a cry by yourself instead?"

Dean stared straight ahead. He didn't know what he was planning to do, except he knew that he couldn't do it here.

Bobby sighed loudly. "Look, Dean, I wasn't expecting that either. I know it stings. But you gotta put it aside for now. Your daddy's gonna be asking questions again."

"I don't care what you tell him," Dean said dully. Because it didn't really matter, did it? He'd spent a huge portion of his life trying to be Daddy's good little soldier. His father's death had proven that would never happen. The years since then had given him a little space, let him be his own man, and no doubt he'd developed in all the wrong ways. This thing with Sam and Castiel and Gabriel was just the tip of the iceberg.

Sooner or later John would stumble across something that set him off. It was just a question of what it would be. At least this time Dean was big enough that his father would think twice about trying to punch him no matter how drunk off his ass he was. So what did it matter what he was told and what he wasn't?

"Dean -"

"I just gotta..." Dean twisted his arm free and took the steps two at a time. He needed a good ride in his baby to clear the cobwebs out of his head. He shoved the heavy door open and walked out as his phone chirped. It was a text from Charlie, saying that she was close and would be at the bunker in an hour or two.

Instead of writing her back, Dean got into the driver's seat of the Impala, switched the car on and floored it. For the first hundred miles, he drove in complete silence. He was definitely speeding, but he didn't care. He was wound so tight that his knuckles were white where he gripped the steering wheel, and his toes hurt from pushing down on the accelerator so hard. 

It was the sound of wings that disrupted the silence. Gabriel reached down and picked up the box of tapes, flicking through them idly. He finally selected one and put it in. Loud music blared out, but instead of making a bitchface and turning the volume down the way Sam would have, Gabriel cranked it up even louder until Dean couldn't hear anything but the music pressing against his head. 

After another fifty miles, he risked a look at Gabriel and saw the archangel was either sleeping or pretending to. His head was resting against the window and he was breathing pretty deeply. Dean closed his eyes, a dangerous thing to do when he was driving so fast, and pulled off the road. They were in the middle of nowhere. He felt all shaky, like his legs wouldn't support him if he tried to stand up.

He sat there for a couple minutes until the shakiness was gone and then he pushed the car door open and got out. How many times had he and Sam sat on the hood of the Impala and just stared at the sky? Usually they waited until it was dark out, but the pale blue sky was pretty in a different way. There were a lot of clouds, for one thing. Dean reclined against the windshield and just stared at them until he fell asleep.

His phone woke him up, vibrating against his hip. He didn't remember setting it to silent, but he must have. He opened his eyes, realizing that he was no longer leaning against glass. At some point Gabriel had joined him, and Dean had slumped over until his head was in the archangel's lap. The position should've been uncomfortable, but Gabriel was idly rubbing a hand up and down Dean's spine. It was something he did a lot; he liked touching, like he was trying to make up for years spent half dead.

"You oughta be careful," Gabriel drawled. "No one wants to fuck someone that's so sunburned they can't stand to be touched."

"You wouldn't be fucking me tonight either way," Dean replied, shifting a little. No sooner had he realized that he had a headache than Gabriel's other hand was brushing across the top of his head, soothing the pain away.

"Just so you know, you're not actually a teenager anymore. Just because your father's back doesn't mean you're living under his roof. It is okay to have sex."

"Yeah, well, we might soon be short a sex partner."

Gabriel's eyebrows drew together, but he got it right away. "There's no way you're talking about Cassie, and I sure as hell haven't found anyone new, so I take it you're talking about Sam."

"Sam and his fiancée."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't that like thirteen years ago?"

"That doesn't change what Jess can offer him."

"Which is...?"

"A normal life!" Dean went to sit up, wanting to pace around to burn off some of his nervous energy, and found that Gabriel was pinning him down with an arm around his chest. He huffed, struggling against the grip. "With Jess, Sam can get away from hunting. Go to law school. Get married, have kids, the whole nine yards. I - we can't give him that."

"Excuse you. For all you know, Cas and I are perfectly capable of having children."

Dean froze at that, sagging into Gabriel's arms. "You, uh..."

"We can't," Gabriel said, laughing. "But the look on your face was just too priceless. Look, kiddo," he wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders, holding him in place. "Sam is a big boy. And if he really wanted to leave, I think we'd have to let him. But that's a big if. I think you're underestimating just how happy Sam is right now. Maybe that's the kind of life he wanted once, but he's a different person now."

"You didn't see them together," Dean said into Gabriel's shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. The reverent way Sam had touched her, like she was something precious. He'd never seen Sam act like that with one anyone else. What other conclusion was he supposed to draw?

Gabriel sighed, breath ruffling the hair on Dean's neck. "No, I didn't. But I've seen the way Sam looks at you when you're not looking at him. I've seen how he and Cas touch each other. And I know how Sam kisses me. Don't break yourself up over his departure before it even happens, Princess."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? You used to like it."

"Bobby called me that," Dean said, making a face. "Right before I left."

"Want me to make you forget all about it?" Gabriel cooed, skimming his fingertips down Dean's arm. Dean's mouth was dry, because he wanted that very much. 

Instead, he found himself asking, "What did you find out in heaven?"

"Spoilsport," Gabriel muttered. "Long story short, it was Metatron who brought them back. Apparently he believed that if he gifted you and your brother the return of those you missed the most, you'd be less inclined to beat his ass."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Straight from the ass's mouth, as it were."

"That's..." Dean rubbed his eyes. It was amazing how Metatron could simultaneously make him want to take a shower and hit something. No one else could invoke that feeling so easily. 

"Ridiculous? Crazy? Not going to work? Not nearly enough to make you forget everything he did?" Gabriel suggested rapidly. "Believe me, I've been down the list myself."

Dean attempted a smile. He was pretty sure he failed. If there was anyone that he and Sam missed the most... "Gabe? My mom..."

"I think she's just been dead too long," Gabriel said, not unkindly, his fingers firm against the back of Dean's neck. "It would take more power than even Metatron has to restore her to life. A bunch of us working together, perhaps, but that's what you get when there's just one crazed dictator working alone. As it was, he drained himself to do even this much."

That made sense. Sort of. Dean just nodded and said, needing a change of subject, "Guess that explains why Jimmy's back. That must've been his weird way of trying to suck up to Cas."

Gabriel looked like he knew what Dean was doing, but he went with it anyway. "Tried and failed. Not sure why he even bothered, to be honest. Angels don't take the theft of grace lightly. Plus there's the whole throwing all of our brothers and sisters out of heaven." He flicked his eyes up to the sky. "There are some things in life that are unforgivable, as I'm sure you know. Metatron's just a coward. Pushed his luck too far and is now trying to beg forgiveness. He tried to ask for mine. I figured I'd let him stew for a little while longer before Cas and I kick his ass."

"So this is permanent is what you're saying."

"They're not going anywhere soon," Gabriel confirmed, and Dean slumped against him. He wasn't sure whether the news was comforting or not. On the one hand, it opened up the question of what they were going to do. On the other hand, it meant that Linda Tran wouldn't lose her son and Claire Novak wouldn't lose her father. Surely that, if anything, was worth it.

"I think I could use that distraction now," he whispered. 

"First I want to know why there won't be any fucking tonight."

Of course he did. It was completely right for him to ask, but Dean was still unsettled by having to put it into words. "My dad doesn't know I'm bisexual," he muttered. "Much less about... everything else."

"I can be discreet."

Dean huffed out a weak laugh. Gabriel wasn't the loudest of the four of them, but he was the one who delighted in wringing every sound out of a partner until they were left with a hoarse throat and an inability to speak the next day. "I just... it's weird, Gabe, that's all. It took me a long time to be okay with... that."

"And now you're not?"

"No." Dean frowned. Maybe he was being stupid. Hadn't he just been thinking earlier that it was only a matter of time before John got pissed off over something? For that matter, he didn't even know if the whole guy thing would upset his dad. It was far more likely John would be angry over the whole supernatural element. And then there was the whole Sam thing that was best left never spoken of. But it wasn't like Sam was the one who wanted to come home with him tonight.

He tipped his head back, finding the familiar gold eyes that had spent numerous nights watching him and Sam sleep. "Please," he said, telling himself he wasn't begging, that he wasn't desperate, and he felt more than saw the curve of Gabriel's smile. A second later his back hit the windshield and there were fingers opening up the button on his jeans. Dean closed his eyes and, for a few minutes, lost himself to pleasure.

"Hey bitches!" Charlie shouted as Dean entered the bunker later, Gabriel on his heels. She was sitting at the table with Jess, along with a half-eaten pizza, some chocolate, and two cans left of a six pack of diet coke. Dean raised an eyebrow at the selection and Charlie stuck her tongue out.

"You were closer than I thought you'd be," Dean said, going over to give her a hug.

"I know, and that's the only reason you're getting away with not being here when I arrived. Because you know, when you invite someone over, the polite thing to do is be here."

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly, and maybe he held on to her for a bit too long because the mock anger had softened out of her eyes when he pulled away. She was quiet for a moment, putting her hand on his arm, right up until Gabriel swaggered up behind Dean and snatched a piece of chocolate.

"Hey, get your own!" Charlie squeaked.

"Sharing is caring." 

"Yeah, unless you're an archangel who can conjure chocolate at will. I have a limited supply."

Gabriel snapped his fingers. Jess jumped and jerked away from the suddenly groaning table, which was covered in chocolate and candy. "You were saying?"

"You're my favorite," Charlie said, her eyes shining.

"Oh, I see how it is," Dean said.

"Sorry Dean, Gabriel knows my weakness. Oh my _god_ , is that chocolate imported from Switzerland?"

"If you're gonna do it, do it right," Gabriel said, preening as Charlie pounced. He slung an arm around Dean's shoulders. "This is why she likes me better."

"Bribery really does get you everywhere," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. "Jess? This is Gabriel. Gabriel, Jess."

"Hi," Jess said faintly. "Are you really..."

"An archangel? Yep, guilty as charged." Gabriel smiled at her. It wasn't a very nice smile, but Dean couldn't exactly fault him for that considering that Gabriel was rarely nice to anyone. "Where's Sam?"

"He's talking to Dean's dad and Bobby," said Charlie through a mouthful of chocolate. She scowled at Dean. "And I just want to say, thanks for the warning. It was awesome to walk in and see two people I've only ever read about standing in the middle of the room. Didn't give me a heart attack or anything."

Dean winced. "Sorry."

"My forgiveness can be bought with the next season of Games of Thrones."

"Noted. Expect it in a couple of weeks," Dean replied, hoping he'd remember to order it. "Are they in the living room?"

"Library, actually," said Jess, apparently having recovered from the shock of meeting an archangel. "Um... while we were eating breakfast, Bobby started asking questions about where you live. Sam started talking about your family and... what did he call it? The Men of Letters?"

"Oh, right," Dean said, his heart sinking straight through the floor, because he hadn't even thought about that. It was only recently that he and Sam had learned that the Campbells weren't the only old hunting family. In their own way, the Winchesters had a history of hunting too - which was something that John had no idea about, seeing as how Henry Winchester had been pulled into the future before he could explain that to his son. This kind of heritage was probably a real eye opener for their dad.

He started walking towards the library, leaving Jess and Charlie behind with their food. Gabriel tagged along, surprisingly quiet as Dean entered to find Sam, Bobby and John sitting around the table with some books stacked in front of them. He recognized the records that Bobby was looking through - that was stuff Sam had dug up for a hunt they'd had a few weeks back - but not the book that John was staring down at. Nor did he recognize the strange look on his father's pale face.

Sam looked both surprised and relieved to see them. "Dean," he said, half-rising. "Gabe."

"Heya Sammy," Gabriel said, pushing past Dean and dropping into one of the chairs at the table. Bobby shot him a half-hearted scowl, which Gabriel just smirked at. John didn't even seem to notice his presence.

"Dean, can we talk?" Sam said, already coming towards him, clearly not ready to take no for an answer. Dean let himself be ushered back out into the hall. It probably wasn't wise to leave Gabriel alone with Bobby and John for too long - Gabriel had been around them long enough to see a handful of Dean's nightmares that didn't feature his father in the best light - but right then he was hard pressed to care.

"Look, Sam -"

"No, dude, listen to me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that Jess and I were engaged. I wasn't trying to hide it from you. It was... We had _just_ gotten engaged, Dean, like two months before, and it was all really new and we weren't even sure we were telling people yet. I don't even know why I bothered sending Dad that stupid invitation. It's not like he would've bothered showing up."

"He would've done his best," Dean said without thinking, just because it was automatic for him to leap to the defense of their dad, even though he'd been freaking out for the past day about what would happen if John found out about them. Sam sighed and gave him an exasperated look.

"Whatever. The point is... I never said anything after the fact because I wasn't okay with admitting to myself what I'd lost. Telling myself that my girlfriend was gone was one thing; telling myself that my fiancée was dead was another." His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "And then by the time I could have talked about it, it didn't really matter anymore. Jess was gone and we had more important things to worry about. I didn't even think about it until Dad said something."

Dean exhaled slowly. "It's fine," he said, a little gentler than he would have before, and watched the tension drain out of Sam's shoulders. "Seriously, man, I get it. Jess is an awesome girl."

"Yeah, she is. She actually took everything better than I expected," Sam admitted. "Though she still freaked out a little bit. It was smart to call Charlie, though. She knew exactly what to do. She kicked us out and told me they were going to have a girl's night in."

"I don't know what a girl's night entails, but I think they were doing it when we got here," Dean told him. "I just figured... Charlie's been there. She didn't know about any of this at one time, too. Now you'd never know it. I thought maybe she could help Jess get to the same point. Maybe it would be easier coming from a third party."

Sam smiled. "Maybe. At the very least, I think Charlie will be able to set them up with new identities. It didn't matter so much for Kevin, because none of us ever officially reported him as dead. But Jess's whole family still thinks she's dead. She had a funeral and everything. So did Dad. Bobby might be okay. And Jimmy." He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Probably," Dean said slowly, infinitely relieved that the topic had changed from the wedding that never was, but which might still be. "Amelia reported Jimmy as missing. I don't know if she ever rescinded that or not. Cas never had a run in with the law, so Jimmy's name hasn't been associated with us. He might be okay. But then again, he also might want to take Claire and go somewhere else to start over."

"Cas would have a hard time with that. He's gotten really attached to Claire."

"She's not his kid, Sam. Jimmy's her real dad."

"I know that, but Cas has really been trying to step it up lately." Sam shrugged. "I'm just saying. I can see why Jimmy might want to go, but I'm not sure Claire would be on board with it. And if she's not, there's no way in hell she's going."

Dean had to concede that point. Claire had a stubborn streak a mile wide, and when she dug her heels in about something - like not being ready to come back to the bunker - there was no changing her mind. He pitied Jimmy then. It was bad enough that the poor guy had given up his life for an angel, but now he'd been unexpectedly returned to a completely different life. His wife was MIA and his daughter was a stranger.

Come to think of it, Jimmy probably wasn't too pleased to see Castiel pop up. Maybe Dean should have gone with him after all. There was no doubt in his mind that Jimmy couldn't do anything to physically hurt an angel, but the more time Castiel spent around Dean and Sam, the more human he became. Not to mention it wouldn't do Claire any good to see the two of them arguing.

"I'm gonna call Cas," he said. "Just to check up on him and see how things are going. How are things going with...?" He jerked his head towards the library. "Jess said you started telling them about the Men of Letters."

"Yeah, I did. I figured it was as good a place as any to get them started. Bobby said you guys told Dad about the Apocalypse and filled them in on what happened after, and I caught them up on Metatron and the angels. I don't think they've completely absorbed it yet, though. Dad in particular seemed to forget everything else once he found out about the Men of Letters."

"Maybe it'll become his new obsession," Dean said dryly, though he didn't really think that would be the case. Hunting had been John's life. Bobby would take to the Men of Letters lifestyle like a duck to water, because in a lot of ways he'd already been fulfilling that role for years. But John? Dean had a hard time picturing his dad just sitting around, looking up lore and adding to the pre-existing records. No, John would want to be right out there in the thick of things.

Sam snorted, clearly finding the idea as ludicrous as Dean did. "That'll be the day. I predict that Dad will be climbing the walls within a week. He's not gonna wanna stick around here with us, Dean. You know that, right? There's no reason for him to." 

There was something about Sam's tone that put Dean on edge, and for a moment he was tempted to rail back at his brother. Because they weren't little kids anymore and John didn't need to drag them around the country, but he and Sam were damn good at hunting. Better than their father would ever be. John would never find a better set of partners, and there was a part of Dean that still ached to prove it.

At the very last second, he bit it back. After all, he didn't really want their father to stick around either. Besides, the last thing he should be doing was starting a fight with Sam. He dropped his gaze. "I didn't tell him about Adam."

Sam was quiet. Then he said, "He didn't ask me."

"He probably doesn't know we know."

"You think we should tell him?"

Another long pause before Sam shook his head. "No. What's the point? It'll just cause a fight. If he wants to know, he can look it up on the internet. There was probably something posted in the obituaries."

But he sounded both angry and sad, and Dean understood why. Finding out about Adam's existence had been a shock to them both; learning about Adam's life - and the kind of father John had tried to be to him - just hurt. Dean remembered wishing that his father was still around just so he could demand an explanation. Funny, now that he had the chance he realized that Sam was right. All it would do was cause a fight.

He'd flipped back and forth into anger so many times during this conversation that Dean was done. He took out his phone and wiggled it in Sam's face, then turned and walked down the hall. Castiel's number was programmed into his phone, but Dean knew it off by heart. He hit the right buttons and held the phone up to his ear, wondering if Castiel would pick up or not. Surprisingly, he did.

"Hello?"

Dean blinked, recognizing the voice. "Claire?"

"Oh, it's you," Claire said flatly, and Dean winced.

"Is Cas there?"

"Yes."

"Can I talk to him?"

"I don't know. Is he going to take my dad away again?"

He winced a second time. "Claire -"

"You wanna see him, you make the drive. I'll text you our location."

She hung up, leaving Dean staring at his phone in bafflement. Why the hell did Claire want to see him? The last couple of times they'd met, she'd had no qualms about calling him a monster. His phone beeped with a new message from Castiel's phone, citing only a town and the name of a motel. He was pretty sure that it was a good day's drive, which meant he'd have to travel by angel air. He sighed and went back to the library.

"Gabe," he said, sticking his head in. There was no sign of Bobby, but the door to one of the storage rooms was open. "You mind dropping me off somewhere?"

Gabriel tipped both the chair and his head back until he was looking at Dean upside down. It was a position that made Dean's back ache just to see. "What do I get in return?"

"Whatever you want," Dean said, and he didn't mean to make it sound like an innuendo, but Gabriel certainly took it that way. His eyes visibly darkened and he leered, looking Dean up and down like he was a five course buffet. Dean felt the back of his neck begin to burn. Freaking horny angels.

John had looked up at that, his eyes darting back and forth between Dean and Gabriel - not that he could see Gabriel's expression from where he was sitting, thank god. He looked disapproving. "Are you sure that's a wise thing to say?"

"Dad -"

"I'm just saying, Dean, these are supernatural creatures we're talking about. You don't know how he might take advantage of the situation. You can't trust them."

"I'm not having this conversation with you," Dean said tightly. "Bobby and I told you last night that Castiel and Gabriel were trustworthy. You don't have to be friends with them, but they're family to me and Sam."

The look on John's face turned incredulous. Dean didn't stick around to see what else he was going to come out with. He gestured to Gabriel and moved on, not looking back to see if the archangel was following. If he had to, he'd get back in the Impala and drive to where Castiel, Claire and Jimmy were. But he didn't think he could stand to stay in the bunker for another minute.

Which, considering that he'd only been there for about half an hour and had been gone most of the day, did not bode well. The sooner John decided to pick up hunting again, the better.

He bypassed Charlie and Jess without talking to them. They had moved to the living room and were deeply involved in what appeared to be several bottles of nail polish and the first of the Harry Potter movies. Gabriel caught up to him just as he made it to the stairs, and they climbed in silence together. As soon as they were outside, Gabriel started to shake his head.

"Your father is a real piece of work," he remarked. "Sometimes I think I don't know where Sam gets it from, but now I do."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh come on, kiddo. Your father's just as stubborn as Sam is. Set in his ways and convinced he's right. Now I know why you don't want to have sex with him in the bunker. That would be enough to kill anyone's boner."

"That's not why," Dean said, though a reluctant little smile tugged at his face. How was it that Gabriel always managed to cheer him up?

"Hmm, could it be the fact that he was about to spit nails when you said Cas and I were family? I don't think he'd be too thrilled if he found out you were sleeping with one of us, never mind both of us. And Sammy."

"Don't say that, Gabriel. Not where someone could hear."

Gabriel's lips pursed into a thin line. It had taken him and Castiel a long time to get Dean and Sam to be comfortable with showing affection for each other, and even longer for them to get to the point where they could do anything else. With the weight of John bearing down on him, Dean couldn't even think about kissing his brother, never mind getting fucked by him.

"Dean," he said, low and serious, and Dean's heart twisted. He ducked his head and Gabriel closed the distance between them, hugging him hard. "Where did you want to go?"

"I thought Cas could use back up," Dean muttered, though now it sounded more like running away. He told Gabriel the name of the town and the motel and shut his eyes. The air blurred around him, making his stomach roll. 

"You gonna travel back with Cassie?" Gabriel said into his ear.

"Probably."

"I'll go back and stick with Sammy, then. Maybe see how _he_ feels about having sex under the same roof as his father."

"Gabriel!"

Gabriel just laughed at him as he disappeared. Dean scowled at the place where he'd been, tamping down on the brief flare of jealousy, before he turned around to scan the motel's parking lot. It was a pretty grungy place, though he and Sam had stayed in far worse before. But considering that Claire was a young teenager and all by herself, it was far from good.

He'd only taken a couple of steps forward when he spotted moving curtains, and then the door about four doors down on the right opened. Claire must have been watching for him. She stepped out and started towards him. The stripes of blue in her blonde hair were new, and so was the fact that she wasn't wearing any make-up at all. Her eyes were so obviously red rimmed that Dean backed up a step, but there was nowhere to go.

"I wanted to look at you when I asked," Claire said when she close enough that she could speak quietly without anyone overhearing. "So I could know whether or not you were lying. But then, I guess I forgot you're pretty accomplished at that."

Dean was pretty sure he knew what she was about to ask. "Claire -"

"Is this for real?" she demanded shrilly. "Is my dad here to stay, or is he going to disappear in a couple of days? Because if he is, you can just take him away right now. I don't want him anywhere around me."

"I - no, Claire. Your dad is here to stay."

"Really?" She stared at him hard.

"Yeah. An angel brought him back." 

"But... why did they wait so long?" she asked. Her voice was shaking, like she was going to cry, and Dean panicked. He didn't know what to do around girls when they cried.

"Bringing someone back... it's a big deal," he said carefully, not wanting to go into the truth about Metatron. Somehow he didn't think it would comfort her to hear that Jimmy had been brought back as a favor to Castiel. "There's been a lot of turmoil in heaven lately. It wasn't until just now that someone was in charge and capable of doing it."

"Why my dad?" she asked, eyes welling up with tears. "I thought it wasn't a big deal to be a vessel. I thought it was supposed to be some kind of a privilege." She made it sound like an ugly word.

"It is. It was. Your father was a good person, Claire. He is a good person. Without the sacrifice he made, the world would've ended a long time ago." Because if Jimmy hadn't agreed to be Castiel's vessel, Dean would've gotten stuck with Uriel. And that just would not have gone over well. Particularly since Castiel wouldn't have been around to stop him from saying yes to Michael.

Her tears spilled over and she shuffled her feet. Dean jumped when she lunged forward and hugged him, because he hadn't really paid attention to the fact that she'd been creeping closer, and looked around quickly to see if anyone was available to help. Of course, they were alone. He flailed his hands a little, not sure what to do with them, before awkwardly setting one on her head and the other on her back. She made a quiet, wounded sound and pressed her face into his shirt.

"I'm sorry," Dean said after a couple of minutes, the words feeling woefully inadequate. Here was someone else who'd had their life yanked out from under them thanks to that stupid Apocalypse. He patted her back a couple of times, but it didn't seem to help. She just cried harder.

"I don't know what to do," she bawled. "I just got used to being on my own and all of a sudden he just showed up and... what do I do, Dean? How am I supposed to go back to being that little girl?"

Dean licked his lips. "I don't think you can. I tried that, once. Not because my father came back to life, but I went to go stay with this girl I knew. She had a kid. I was trying to live a normal life. I thought I could do it, but I couldn't. Knowing what was out there... It made me restless. I couldn't relax."

"I'm not a hunter," Claire said, soft and defeated, but also kind of like she knew it wasn't really true.

"You could still have a life with him if you wanted it. Your dad loves you, Claire. I'm positive you're the most important thing in his world right now," Dean said, because if there was one thing about Jimmy Novak that he knew to be true, it was that. His wife and daughter had always come first. "Maybe you can build something new together. He's gonna need help, you know. Getting used to the world the way it is now."

He didn't add that it would be the best thing for her, because Claire was just the kind of stubborn to take that the wrong way. She'd almost gone down the wrong path a couple of times now, and Castiel couldn't always be there to protect her. Claire wouldn't let him. But Jimmy was a different story. And maybe Jimmy's presence would be enough to keep her from becoming a hunter. 

That wasn't the kind of future that Claire deserved.

She was quiet for a little while, but she didn't loosen her grip and Dean didn't try to push her away. It was actually sort of comfortable. It had been a long time since he'd hugged anyone so small. It reminded him of hugging Sam when they were kids, and of the occasional time Ben had given him a hug before going to bed at night. It felt precious. He put his head down next to her ear.

"You got a chance here, Claire. I know that maybe it's come too late. I get that. But it's still worth a try."

Maybe those were words he should be saying to Sam.

Claire took a deep breath and squeezed him hard. Dean squeezed her back. They let go at the same time. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, and he saw that she was wearing black nail polish. She noticed him looking and gave him a tiny, shaky smile.

"I told Dad that he needed to get one of those tattoos. I think it scared him."

"You mean the anti-possession one?"

"Yeah. Cas took me to get mine."

"That's good," Dean said, surprised that Castiel had never mentioned it. He didn't mean to look at her so openly, even though he was wondering where she'd gotten it. Claire tugged the collar of her shirt down until he could see it: the familiar black lines inked into her skin, partially eclipsed by her bra, right over her heart. Exactly where he and Sam had theirs.

"He almost passed out when I told him," Claire said, like maybe it satisfied her, and Dean looked at her knowingly.

"I don't think he's gonna run off no matter what you tell him," he told her. "Tattoo or not."

She shrugged, kept quiet, and took his hand to pull him along. Dean went willingly, following her to the room she'd walked out of. It was weird to enter. There were two guys in the room that were, at first glance, completely identical except for their clothing. It was only the subtle details that gave them away: the light in Castiel's eyes, the slight amount of scruff on Jimmy's jaw. The way they were positioned, Jimmy slouched on the bed, Castiel standing with perfect posture in front of the television.

"Dean," Castiel said, not like he was surprised, but definitely pleased. 

"Hey Cas. We hadn't heard from you, so I thought I'd come make sure everything was going okay." Dean let his eyes wander over to Jimmy. The last time he'd seen the guy he was bleeding out on the floor and begging Castiel to take him as a vessel. No one would ever know it to look at him now.

"Hello, Dean," Jimmy said.

And okay, that was _really_ weird. Dean had heard those words coming out of that mouth countless times, but it was downright bizarre to hear Jimmy's higher pitched voice as opposed to Castiel's lower, graveled one. "Hi Jimmy," he said awkwardly, trying to slip his hand out of Claire's grip. She wouldn't let go.

"Dean says that you're here for good," said Claire, looking at her dad. "He said an angel brought you back."

"Metatron," Castiel muttered. Even though he wasn't looking for confirmation, Dean still nodded. 

"Gabriel got back this morning and confirmed it," he said for lack of anything else to say. "So Claire is right. It would be best if you got an anti-possession tattoo. Sooner rather than later. There are still a lot of black eyed sons of bitches running around out there."

"And I look just like an angel," Jimmy said, sounding so much like Claire that Dean could suddenly see exactly where she got it from. He stood up. "Fine then, let's go."

"Uh..." Dean wasn't expecting that. He glanced at Castiel for support, but the angel regarded him with that bland face that meant he was being purposefully obtuse.

"I will stay here with Claire."

"I don't have the Impala," Dean said, a last ditch effort that didn't work, because Jimmy just gave him a look that was eerily reminiscent of Castiel and pointed out that they had two sets of perfectly functioning legs between them. Claire, the little brat, started smirking and finally dropped Dean's hand so that he could go.

"Have fun. Bring us back some food," she said, wiggling her eyebrows, and Dean would have never known that not ten minutes ago she'd been crying in his arms.

"I'll get you both for this somehow," he muttered to the room in general. Jimmy was waiting for him right outside the door. Dean fell into step beside him, shoving his hands in his pocket in an effort to cover up the discomfort he felt. The last time he'd spent any time around Jimmy, the guy wasn't exactly happy to see him and Sam. In fact, Dean had been expecting that Jimmy would shut the door in his face... not volunteer to spend time with him.

The town Claire had chosen to hide out in, a little place called Chester, only had one tattoo parlor. It wasn't hard to find. There were exactly two main streets that ran side by side through the middle of the town, and the parlor was on the one closest to the motel. Dean flicked his eyes up and down the shop speculatively, because the last thing he wanted was for Jimmy to get an infection. But the place looked pretty clean.

A woman looked up at them both when they walked in. She had a lot of tattoos, soft, bright colors that swirled up and down her arms, across her throat, and disappeared over her shoulders. Her hair was bright pink. She smiled. "Hi, welcome to Lottie's. I'm Lottie. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking to get a tattoo," said Jimmy. "Immediately, if possible."

"I guess that depends on how detailed you want it to be. I close in a half an hour."

"We're willing to pay extra," Dean said, suddenly realizing the real reason he'd been elected to go with Jimmy. Money. As an angel, it wasn't like Castiel carried any with him. And the last couple of times they'd met up with Claire, she'd been pretty low too. Chances were Metatron hadn't brought Jimmy back with a pocketful of cash, either. He grimaced, hoping that the place took credit cards.

Lottie eyed them speculatively. "How much extra?"

Dean pushed his coat aside and tugged down the collar of his shirt to show his tattoo. "This is what he needs done. How much?"

She got up and came closer, and although she reached out a hand and Dean tensed in preparation for the touch on his skin, she didn't touch. "The design's not overly complicated. If he wants the same design in about the same size, I'd say... $350.00. Maybe it an even $400.00 and I'll do it now."

The price definitely hurt, but they couldn't afford to be picky. So far no one knew about what Metatron had done, but if demons found out about Jimmy they wouldn't hesitate to use him as a pawn. "Fine. You take credit cards, right?"

"Everything except American Express."

"Just make sure that it's _exactly_ the same. The design can't be different in any way."

"Then I suggest you take your shirt off so I can draw it," Lottie said, pushing past them to the door. She locked it and flipped the sign to closed. "Follow me."

In the back area, Dean took his coat and two shirts off so that she could sketch the symbol. The room was cool and he could feel goose bumps prickling along his skin. Lottie seemed entirely focused on sketching, which he appreciated, but Jimmy wasn't shy about looking him over. His eyes lingered on the handful of scars Dean had picked up since being saved from Hell, including the spot where the Mark of Cain had once been. Though it was gone now, the skin was marred as though he'd been badly burned.

"How long will it take?" Jimmy asked, breaking the silence.

"A couple of hours, depending on whether one of us needs a break," Lottie replied without lifting her head. She made a couple of extra marks and then turned the pad to face Jimmy. "What do you think?"

Jimmy stared at it for a moment, but it was evident that he had no idea what he was looking for. Dean moved so that he could see the sketchpad too as he pulled his shirt back on. He inspected it carefully, but it looked like she'd drawn it pretty much perfectly. 

"Looks good," he said.

"Great. Where do you want it, hon?"

"On my chest is fine."

"Strip down, then, and lay down right here. You know it's gonna hurt, right?"

"I'm familiar with pain," Jimmy said with a humorless smile, moving to disrobe. For the first time Dean noticed that he was wearing the old trench coat, the one that Castiel had to leave behind. Underneath it was the familiar suit jacket and white shirt, and then an even more familiar expanse of skin.

Lottie pointed him to the table. Jimmy lay down. She came over a couple of minutes later and pressed a paper to his skin, transferring the design to his chest. After checking to make sure that it was where Jimmy wanted it, she started to get her machine ready. Dean finished put his coat on and sat down in one of the chairs, surprised to find that it was more comfortable than he'd been expecting.

"You don't have to stay," said Jimmy.

"It's not a big deal," Dean replied. Honestly he didn't think he'd feel comfortable leaving Jimmy on his own until that tattoo was in place. Claire had already seen one of her parents possessed by a demon. She didn't need to see the other.

The familiar buzz of the tattoo machine drowned out whatever else Jimmy might have said. Lottie started to work. Dean watched her for a little while, following the familiar curves and dips of the anti-possession symbol. He wondered if Bobby still had his and realized that they would need to get one done for John as quickly as possible - and maybe Jess too. He pulled out his phone and texted a note saying as much to Sam.

That done, he settled back in his chair and shut his eyes. He didn't let himself fall asleep, not tired yet after the nap he'd had that afternoon. It was nice to just sit and rest for a little while and not have to think about everything. The easiest course of action would be to let Jimmy and Claire disappear, get Bobby, John and Jess out the door, and have life continue normally.

Unfortunately, they were Winchesters. Dean wasn't even sure that he remembered how to let things happen easily. It seemed like every time he and Sam turned around, something came up to make their lives exponentially harder. And at least in this respect, it would probably stay that way until Gabriel and Castiel made it up to heaven and ganked Meta-douche the way he deserved. Maybe after this little stunt, seeing how Metatron clearly thought he could pretend to be God, that would happen sooner rather than later.

Lottie was true to her word: even without any breaks, it took a couple of hours to get the tattoo on Jimmy. It was late by then, pitch dark out, and Dean tipped her an extra $25.00 while she rattled off a long list of aftercare instructions to Jimmy. He listened very carefully and took the pamphlet she gave him, folding it up and putting it into his pocket. He'd left the top few buttons of his shirt undone, and Dean could make out the edge of the bandage.

"Well, congratulations," Dean said as they left. "You are now officially unable to be possessed by any demons."

"Wish I could say the same for angels," Jimmy remarked.

"The angels fell -"

"Yeah, yeah, from heaven, I know. Castiel told us. That doesn't mean I won't ever run across another one looking to take up residence."

"At least angels ask for permission," Dean pointed out.

Jimmy gave him a flat look. "The last time an angel asked for my permission, he'd already possessed my daughter and I was dying. I'm pretty sure heaven has unique ways of getting what they want."

"Look, man..." Dean blew out a breath. He was so not the right person for this. He should've sent Sam instead. "What happened to you sucks. I'm not saying it didn't. I'm just trying to tell you how best to protect your kid, okay? I'm going out on a limb here and guessing that you're not interested in coming back to the bunker."

"Not particularly. I'd prefer it if Claire and I could just keep going."

Dean nodded. He'd expected that. "Stick around for a couple more nights. I have a friend who can make you and Claire new identities. Sam and I will give you some money." He wasn't sure where they were going to get this money, but they'd scrape something together even if it meant filling out another two dozen credit card applications. "Then you two can go wherever you want. Hell, you could leave the U.S. entirely if you think you'd be better off."

"Are there no demons or supernatural creatures in the rest of the world?" Jimmy asked.

"Hell if I know, but I'm guessing they're all over the place." Dean shrugged. "It's up to you. I'm just giving you your options here."

"I know. And I appreciate it." Jimmy's voice was very quiet. "Claire's had a much more difficult time than I anticipated. I want to make it better for her, but I don't think she'd like it if I made that kind of decision without asking her first. I'll talk to her about it."

"Good plan," Dean said, nodding approvingly. Jimmy definitely knew his daughter. "And, you know, Claire's got our numbers. We can get you a phone too, if you want. You can call if you need help with anything."

"Or if Castiel wants to visit?" Jimmy said, pinning Dean with a hard stare. "He and Claire seem unusually close."

"I wouldn't call it close. More like Cas just got a lot more human over the years and realized that he wanted to try and make it up to Claire if he could," Dean replied, deciding not to mention that technically Castiel had been all the way human at least once. "He's reached out to her quite a few times, trying to help. Claire is receptive sometimes, but she never forgot about you. She made it clear that Cas was never going to be a replacement for you."

There was a funny look on Jimmy's face. "It's hard to believe that Castiel would be willing to do that."

"He's changed a lot. We've been through shit you can't even begin to imagine. So yeah, maybe Cas and me would like to visit once in a while, if that's okay with you. Just to make sure that you guys are doing okay. I promise that we wouldn't come around if there was even the slightest hint that something was wrong."

"I'll think about it," Jimmy said finally, which was probably the best that Dean could hope for - and honestly, more than he thought he'd get. Part of him wouldn't have been surprised if Jimmy took his daughter and just ran for it, getting as far away from the Winchesters and their angels and the craziness that followed them everywhere as physically possible. 

"Thanks," Dean said quietly, meaning it, and turned to go into the only diner still open at this time of night. He ordered several hamburgers and some fries, along with four chocolate milkshakes, and maxed out his credit card paying for it. No matter. It was Clark Kelly's problem, not his. He tossed it in the trash as he and Jimmy walked back to the hotel, loaded down with their provisions.

Claire was sleeping on the bed when they got back. Castiel was still standing in the exact same place. Dean set his armload of bags and milkshakes down and stepped close to him, brushing a hand subtly against the angel's hip. He was rewarded by a softening in the blue eyes, something which never failed to give him a rush. He loved the way Castiel looked at him, at Sam, at Gabriel, like they were all three of them something precious.

"Did you bring food back, Daddy?" Claire asked sleepily when Jimmy put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, baby, I did," Jimmy said, smiling at her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He nudged one of the brown paper bags open and took out a styrofoam container. Claire stole one of the fries as soon as it was open.

"Got you a milkshake," Dean said to Castiel, because even though it wasn't necessary for angels to eat, sometimes Castiel still liked to indulge. He offered up the milkshake and Castiel took it. Dean popped a straw into his own milkshake and took a couple of sips.

"Gabriel contacted me," Castiel said in lowered tones, meant for Dean's ears alone. "Since Metatron knows about him now, he's concerned that Metatron may take measures against us if we delay for much longer. He thinks that we should go up to heaven tonight and... solve the problem."

"You won't hear me arguing, Cas," Dean muttered. "The guy's a dick. After what he did to you, stealing your grace, I hope Gabriel throws him downstairs with Lucifer and Michael. Do him good to be taught a lesson."

Castiel's mouth quirked into a smile. "That's a level of torture I'm not sure anyone deserves. Much as they were at odds, both Michael and Lucifer were very protective of heaven." He paused for a moment, looking contemplative. "On second thought, I will discuss this with Gabriel. Perhaps it would be a fitting punishment after all."

"What will happen to heaven after Metatron's gone?" Dean asked, fiddling with the straw wrapper. It would make sense for Castiel and Gabriel to go back upstairs. The angels would need someone to lead them, and as the last remaining archangel Gabriel was the logical choice. Not to mention, for a little while there Castiel had been building an army. Would he end up alone after all?

A strong hand gripped his chin, pulling his head around. Castiel's forehead brushed against his, his face so close that all Dean could see was blue. "You think Gabriel and I wish to return to heaven? For what purpose? We have built a life here on Earth with you and Sam, Dean. Why would we want to leave that behind?"

"Heaven is your home." The argument sounded weak even to Dean's ears, and he wasn't sure why he was trying to push it anyway. It wasn't like he wanted them to go.

"Our home is here, with you," Castiel said very gently. "Gabriel does not want to rule heaven. He never has. And I have come to realize that I am not cut out to be a leader. No, Dean. I'm not sure what will become of heaven, and on occasion it might be necessary for one or both of us to return for a short period of time... but you can stop wondering if we will be going back for good."

Those words loosened some of the tension that had been building in Dean's chest for a while now. He sagged against Castiel. "What about Gabriel? Are you sure you guys are strong enough for this?"

"After seeing what Metatron has done, I'm not sure he will pose much of a threat even if he has fully recovered. This was an act that begs for forgiveness, even if he was too much of a coward to come right out and ask for it." Castiel's voice was filled with disgust. "Metatron was never much of a fighter. Even in heaven, I know that we will be able to handle him without much difficulty. The problem was always getting there. He has the doors to heaven well guarded, and my wings were wounded when he stole my grace."

But Gabriel's weren't, Dean realized, and they'd both had time to heal. He sighed. He couldn't begrudge either angel the desire to go gank Metatron, considering everything that he'd done. And it would only do good to get the rest of the angels off the planet. Most of them were not settling in well, and it might stop the revenge that 90% of the population was still trying to get on Castiel.

"I knew it."

Those three words, uttered in a tone that was far too gleeful for Dean's taste, made him turn around. Claire had a half-eaten burger on her knee, but she seemed to be more interested in plucking fries from the container, breaking them in half and then delicately nibbling the ends. By contrast, Jimmy was popping the last bite of his first burger in his mouth and already reaching for the second. Evidently his fondness for red meat had not disappeared while he was dead.

It was Claire who had spoken, watching them both with bright eyes, and she only grinned wider when Dean scowled at her. "I knew there was something between you two," she said, pointing at them. "I tried to ask Cas before, but he wouldn't tell me the truth."

"The truth is that it's none of your business," Dean said, straightening up and folding his arms. But he'd forgotten he was holding his milkshake, and he ended up nearly dumping the 3/4 full cup on Castiel's shirt. The angel righted the cup at the last second.

"You keep telling yourself that," Claire said, a wicked grin on her face. "Did you see them, Dad?"

"I saw," Jimmy said in a long-suffering tone, pointedly not looking at Dean or Castiel. It occurred to Dean that Jimmy was probably trying not to think about what Castiel might have been doing with his body while he was dead. A prickle of embarrassment ran through him, and he felt his face growing hot.

"I think it is time we left," Castiel said, possibly sensing the tension, more likely because he was anxious to get moving. He set down his untouched milkshake.

"I'll talk to my friend about those identities," Dean said to Jimmy. "Like I said, she can have them done in a day or two. Passport, driver's license, birth certificate, SSN. Anything you need."

Jimmy nodded. "Thank you. Claire and I will talk over what we plan to do in the meantime."

"Bye Cas," Claire said softly. "Bye Dean."

"Good-bye Claire. Jimmy," Castiel said. 

"Bye," Dean said, feeling fingers skimming his hip, and then the two of them and the shitty motel room were gone and everything was a blur again before the world righted itself and he was looking at Gabriel and Sam. Castiel's hand was a warmer presence now on his hip. All four of them were standing outside of the bunker, alone together for the first time since this whole mess had begun.

"How's Claire?" Sam asked in lieu of a greeting.

"Confused," Castiel replied. "But pleased that her father has returned." He paused. "Also angry, I think, because he was gone for so long in the first place, though I'm not sure she knows who to direct her anger towards."

"This has been the most fucked up day of my life," Dean said to no one in particular, because they'd faced a lot of weird shit but this had to number somewhere in the top ten.

Gabriel smirked at him. "Maybe you're not enjoying yourself, but I am, considering the effort it took Metatron to get off his ass and restore all these souls to life has left him weak. And that means Cassie and I have the perfect opportunity. So if you'll excuse us, boys..." He smacked Sam on the ass, clearly relishing the way Sam jumped and squeaked, and then sauntered over to Castiel. He threw an arm around Castiel's shoulders and kissed him as they disappeared.

Dean stared at the spot where they'd been, feeling oddly bereft. Sam just sighed. "I hope they're careful, Metatron has already proven that he's not someone who can be messed around with."

"Cas knows to be careful. He's been down this road before," Dean said, though he knew what Sam meant. Metatron was a sneaky son of a bitch. Gabriel and Castiel might be in for more of a fight than they realized.

Sam just nodded. "Dean, I have to tell you something. Actually, I need to tell you two things."

"Oh god, you're wearing the same face you used to wear when you pissed in the bed and you didn't want to admit it."

"That was over twenty years ago!" Sam protested, blushing.

"You let me get in a bed that was soaked in piss, man. I'm never going to forget it."

"Oh shut up. Look, I should have asked you earlier what you'd told Dad. I wasn't thinking when he asked me to fill in some of the gaps. I told him about you selling your soul."

It felt like the world stopped. "Fuck."

"Pretty much," Sam said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I should've realized there were some things you wouldn't have told him. It was just... he kept asking me about the Yellow Eyed Demon, wanting to know every little detail, and then he started asking about you being the Righteous Man and how you'd died so that you ended up in hell and -"

"Sam, breathe."

"Right. Right, I'm sorry. I was distracted. It just came out."

"How pissed was he?"

Sam winced a little. "Pretty pissed. He started yelling at Bobby for not being around to stop us from making stupid choices. It kinda went downhill from there."

"Awesome," Dean muttered. He supposed that out of everything John could've found out, that wasn't so terrible. It had happened so long ago, and so much had happened since then. The thought of going back to hell still terrified him to his very soul, but sometimes there were even whole days when he didn't think about Alastair.

"We can't keep him here, Dean," Sam said. "Dad will drive us both crazy."

"I know. We can ask Charlie about the new identities tomorrow," Dean said. "I talked to Jimmy about it tonight. He was very receptive to the idea. I think he really wants to start over with Claire."

"How is she?"

"She seemed shaken up, but... she's getting used to the situation pretty fast, I think. It helped when I told her that Jimmy was here to stay. I think she was really scared that she was just going to get used to him being here and then he'd disappear again. I don't know; it'll be hard for them both at first. But I told Jimmy that we'd float them some money to get started."

"I'm sure we can dig some credit cards up," Sam said thoughtfully. "Might take a couple days. I'll look around and see what we’ve got. Too bad we don't have cash to send them off with, but a new life costs a lot of money. Maybe that's something else Charlie can take care of. She's started a new life enough times."

"Charlie's a computer genius, Sam. Not a salesman."

"I said I'd look around at the credit cards we have."

Dean nodded, shifting uncomfortably. It had to be close to midnight, and it had been a damn long day. He was tired. "What was the other thing you wanted to say?"

"Oh, right. I talked to Gabriel earlier." Sam's expression changed, going simultaneously gentle and firm at the same time, and Dean's heart twisted a bit. "He told me that you were worried about me and Jess. That you thought I was going to take off."

"Frigging gossiping angels," Dean mumbled, pissed. 

"Normally I'd agree, but in this case I'm glad he said something. Because I know you, Dean. You'll start poking and prodding to push me away because you think it's what I want, and I won't understand why so I'll retaliate until it blows up into a big fight. That's what always ends up happening. I, for one, am grateful that Gabriel just cut straight to the chase since you can't open up your dumb mouth and just tell me when you're scared."

"I'm not _scared_."

Sam's raised eyebrows suggested he thought differently. "Right. Not at all. Since you're not scared, then I guess you don't care that I'm not planning to leave with Jess."

"What?" Dean was so shocked he took a step towards his brother without thinking, only realizing his mistake when Sam's face softened. It was too late then, because Sam closed the distance between them and pulled Dean into a fierce hug. 

"You're such an idiot sometimes. I admit it. What I had with Jess was amazing. It was special. If you had asked me at the time, it was everything I wanted. I was ready to marry her. But Dean, that was over ten years ago. I'm a completely different person now than I was then."

He could hear Sam's heart pounding fast. Dean felt cold. "But you - you were trying again, with Amelia, and Jess is so much better than her -"

"Gee, thanks. I'm sure Amelia would love to hear that," Sam said, but his voice was fond. "What I had with Amelia never would have gone anywhere. I was so messed up from losing you that I didn't know what was what, and Amelia was the same way. We were two broken people trying to hold onto each other. Even if you hadn't come back, I doubt it would've lasted for much longer than it did.

"Besides, it doesn't matter. Yeah, Jess was a lot better for me than Amelia ever was. But that doesn't change the fact that Jess is - was in love with the person that I used to be. She's still twenty years old, but I'm not twenty-two years old anymore, Dean. Like I said, I'm a different person. She barely recognizes me."

"You could make it work," Dean said, his words muffled by Sam's shirt. In spite of what he'd said, his hands crept up and grabbed onto the material of his shirt, pulling the fabric so tight that it threatened to tear.

"Maybe, given enough time. I doubt it. A part of me will always love Jess, but I have something really good here with you and Cas and Gabe. You're the only ones who know exactly what I've been through and who still accept me and love me anyway. You think that's something I'm ready to just throw away?"

"She could give you a normal life, Sam. Kids, the white picket fence, a job on the straight and narrow..."

"If I want a job as a lawyer, I can go back to law school anytime I want. I don't need Jess to do that," Sam replied. "But I'm not even sure that's what I want anymore. It was the dream of a kid. Yeah, maybe it would be nice to be the one on the other side of the law for once. And maybe someday I'll think about it." His hug tightened. "You remember what you said to me when you left Lisa's? About how restless you were when you weren't hunting?"

Of course Dean did, not that he was willing to admit it. Lisa was a wonderful woman. God knew she'd put up with his drinking and nightmares, and the grief and guilt over losing Sam. In another life, Dean probably would have been very happy with her and Ben. Just not in this one. Staying in one place all the time, in such an ordinary, run of the mill, average place had made him twitchy.

The whole time he was with Lisa, he felt like he couldn't relax. Because if he did that would be the opportunity that some supernatural creature needed to try and take him down. No, considering that he hadn't gone on a single hunt during the year he'd spent at her house, he'd come out of it a hell of a lot more tense than when he'd come in. Returning to the hunting lifestyle had been nothing short of a relief.

"I know you do," Sam went on when the silence made it clear Dean wasn't going to answer. "You were pissed at me. You said that just because you occasionally wondered about that kind of a life doesn't mean it was what you really wanted. Well, I feel the same way. I'm a hunter, Dean. It's in my blood. Our blood. I don't think I could leave knowing that you were gonna keep hunting. You're my brother. I want to be with you."

"Sammy..." Dean closed his eyes, trying to ignore the weird combination of guilt and relief that settled heavily in his chest. 

"And it's something that _I_ want, Dean. This is my choice. It's not because you dragged me back into the life. Everything's pretty quiet right now, calm before the storm, and I could go if I wanted to. I'm staying because it's where I belong. Cas and Gabe feel the same way."

This was heavily bordering on getting way too emotional, but Dean couldn't find it in him to make Sam stop talking. "You really aren't going?"

"No," Sam said simply, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm really not. I love Jess. She'll always be one of my best friends. I'd like to keep up with her and visit her sometimes. But even if I wanted it to, even if I was just a normal guy and had nothing else going on in my life, it wouldn't work. I'm not the same stupid kid I used to be, and Jess... well, she still is."

For the first time, Dean heard the sadness in his brother's voice. He leaned back a little bit and looked up at Sam. Noticing his scrutiny, Sam forced a smile, but Dean wasn't fooled. He hadn't really stopped to think about how hard this had been on Sam, seeing Jess again. Seeing how young and beautiful she was, a living reminder of what had almost been if it hadn't been for a demon.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," he said quietly, pressing a kiss to Sam's mouth. Sam kissed back. It tasted like salt.

"I know," Sam whispered when they broke apart. "I am too."

It was morning before Dean saw his dad. He and Sam stood outside for at least half an hour, until Dean's legs went numb from the cold and he complained enough that Sam rolled his eyes and they went inside. The bunker was dark and quiet by then, and they were able to sneak into Sam's room and lock the door. Dean spent the night wrapped up in Sam's arms, wishing that their angels could be there, but too grateful that Sam still was to really be bothered.

Some things couldn't be avoided, though, and he was reminded of that fact when John cornered him in the kitchen. Dean was cooking breakfast, just scrambled eggs and sausages, when he felt the weight of eyes on his back. The hair on his neck prickled with awareness, but he didn't let himself turn. He grabbed a spatula and started stirring the eggs to keep them from burning, pretending like it required all of his concentration, but it didn't work. It never did. 

"You sold your soul," John said, no greeting, just straight out flat and angry. Dean took the frying pan off the burner and set it on the back of the stove.

"Yeah, I did. Sam was dead and there was no other alternative," he said.

"What the hell, Dean? Why would you do something so stupid?" John demanded. "I taught you better than that!"

"You taught me to always put Sam first," Dean corrected, a familiar weariness settling in. He'd never begrudged his father that, not really. Sam did, and Castiel, and Gabriel, and even Bobby to some extent, but not Dean. "Besides, you were the one who sold your soul first. I was just... passing along the favor."

"When I told you that you might have to kill him -"

Dean barked out a laugh. "Kill him, Dad? Really? I never did get the chance to tell you how monumentally stupid that was. Sam is my whole world. You should've known that I never would've been able to kill him. I'm not strong enough for that." He really wasn't, and for once he felt no shame in admitting it.

John's jaw tightened. "Then you should have found some other way to make sure it didn't come to that."

"Like what? I'm all ears. Please tell me what you think I should have done," Dean shot back. "Considering that you told me you'd searched for another answer and couldn't find one. Goddamnit, Dad. That was years ago. It doesn't matter anymore."

"It matters to me!" In a handful of steps John was right in front of him. He'd always been quick. He seized the front of Dean's shirt in two meaty fists, dragging him in close. "I sold my soul to save your life, not so that you could throw it away and start the Apocalypse in the process!"

His heart fluttered, and Dean hoped that John wasn't close enough to be able to feel it. "That's what this is about, isn't it? You're not pissed because I sold my soul to save Sam. You're pissed that I broke, that I took up the knife in hell to get off the rack."

"I never did. For all the time I was down there, Dean, I never once broke." John's voice was so, so quiet, but Dean heard every word perfectly. "I taught you better than that. Your _weakness_ nearly ended the world."

It was something that Dean had told himself a thousand times over, but hearing it from his father still had the power to hurt. He brought his arms up, knocking away John's hands. "It happened and it's done," he said as steadily as he could. There was no point in explaining that the demons never would have stopped, that they would have pushed and pushed until something broke and the first seal on Lucifer's cage was undone. John would only hear that as an excuse.

"It's not _done_. If you had just -"

"That's enough." Bobby hadn't sounded this pissed in a long time. Dean had no idea how long he'd been standing just outside the kitchen listening, but from the look he was giving John he'd heard more than enough.

"This is none of your business, Bobby," said John. He'd backed up a step, but he was still too close for Dean's comfort.

"The hell it isn't. You weren't here, John. You have no idea what your boys have been through, but especially Dean. Maybe you didn't break in hell, but you weren't subjected to the same kind of torment, either."

"That's just an excuse."

"Oh fuck you!" Bobby roared. "You've got your head so far up your own damn ass that you can't even see how far your boys have come! They've gotten through things that would've put you in the ground a long time ago. You should be proud of them, not criticizing your son for a sacrifice that saved his brother's life."

John scowled and went to speak, but Bobby threw up a hand. "Don't. I don't want to hear it, and neither does Dean. You don't know what the hell you're talking about, and frankly it's not your place anymore, if it ever was. You're so obsessed with being the perfect hunter that you can't even see how far Dean has surpassed you and I'm damned tired of it. If you say another word, Winchester, I swear I'll send you back up to heaven myself."

The scowl on John's face deepened, but it was obvious that Bobby meant what he was saying. With one last glare at the two of them, he stormed out of the room. Dean turned back to face the stove, feeling ill. Bobby stepped up behind him.

"You know he's full of shit, Dean. There's no way you could've lasted through that."

"I know," Dean said, realizing even as he spoke that he probably didn't sound very convincing. He'd been told that enough times over the years. But it would never be enough to deal with the little worm of doubt buried deep in his heart. 

Bobby sighed and set a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Your daddy's terrified, Dean. He was never on top of the game, but for a long time he was able to pretend that he was. And now he doesn't even have that. I think it would be best for everyone if he and I headed out. Got reacquainted with the world and left you boys and your angels in peace."

"You don't want to stay here?"

"I might come back at some point. There's lots of books I'd have sold my right arm for last time I was around. But right now I think John needs me to keep his head on straight."

Dean chewed his lower lip. Part of him wanted Bobby to stay, but he had to admit that it was for the best. If John went off by himself, he'd end up burying himself back in the bottle and be dead within the month. Of course, that might happen anyway even with Bobby running interference. His father had never been one to make the best choices when he was on uncertain ground.

"Thanks Bobby," he said softly, and he meant it for more than just Bobby taking John off their hands. Bobby squeezed his shoulder tightly.

"No problem, ya idjit. Sam told us your friend Charlie is a pro at making new identities. John and I will head out. When she gets the chance to whip some together, call me. I'll tell you where you can forward them to."

"You need a phone -"

"Sam gave me one of the spares you had lying around," Bobby replied. "Take care of yourself, Dean. I mean that."

"I will."

Bobby nodded, giving him one last hard look, before he turned and walked over to the door. Dean stood there for a little while longer, staring down at the pan of scrambled eggs until the odor in the kitchen told him that the sausages were beginning to burn. By the time he'd thrown the worst of them out and got the rest on the table, Charlie and Jess had come in. Sam joined them just as Dean sat down.

"Where are Bobby and your dad?" Jess asked, looking around.

"They left," said Sam with a meaningful look at Dean, who pretended not to notice. Evidently Bobby had shared what happened with Sam. Great.

Jess frowned. "How come?"

"Dad's a hunter. He doesn't like to stay in one place too long," Sam replied, which was sort of true. "Bobby went along with him to make sure that Dad doesn't get himself killed. A lot has changed since the last time Dad hunted."

It was an understatement and Dean snorted. Sam's eyes glittered with dark humor, but he didn't say anything else and the topic soon changed to something lighter. Charlie was totally on board with creating new identities, though - again - money was going to be a bit of an issue. 

"We'll work on that," Dean told her. "Just make some. I don't like leaving Jimmy and Claire out there with nothing."

"Right after breakfast," Charlie said, popping a piece of toast into her mouth with a flourish. "Jess? Have you decided what you're doing yet?"

"Actually, yeah. I have."

"What?" Sam asked, looking like he wasn't really sure he wanted to know.

"I think I'm going to stick with Charlie for a while," Jess said.

"Really?" Dean and Charlie said together.

"Yeah, if that's okay with you."

"Totally!" Charlie said, looking excited.

Jess smiled at her. "Things have changed a lot for me too. I know this is just, like, the tip of the iceberg. I could use someone awesome to show me how things work."

"You know you're welcome to stay here," said Sam.

"I know, Sam, and I appreciate the offer. But you have a different life now, and let's face it. You've been wonderful, but I'm not really a part of it. I really think it's better that I go with Charlie for a while. I need to get used to the world now; figure out who I am and what I want to do," Jess said gently, and suddenly Dean liked her a lot more for being able to break the news to Sam so kindly.

Sam blew out a breath, nodding with a pinched smile. "That makes sense, I guess."

"I'm going to come visit," Jess promised. "If that's okay?" She directed the question at Dean, and he realized that he probably hadn't been as subtle with his dislike as he should have been.

"It's fine," he said, meaning it. "Whenever you're in the neighborhood."

"Thank you, Dean. I appreciate that."

Charlie grabbed one last spoonful of eggs and stood up. "I'll get started, then," she said. "There's a con happening in five days that I really wanted to get to and it's a two day drive. We gotta hurry!"

"A con?" Jess repeated, puzzled.

Dean grinned into his eggs.

Everything sort of... settled down after that. Castiel and Gabriel returned that afternoon with the news that Metatron was officially no longer a problem. Gabriel was cleaning blood off his archangel blade as he said that, so it didn't take too much speculation to figure out what had happened to him. As far as Dean was concerned, it was good riddance to a rotten egg. It was just too bad angels couldn't burn in hell.

With Metatron gone, heaven was officially open for business and the angels were returning in droves. Surprisingly, Hannah and a small group of angels were stepping up to help lead - and although their help might be needed every so often, for the most part Gabriel and Castiel were free to stay on Earth. Not only did it mean that Castiel would be a lot safer, but so would Jimmy and Claire.

Charlie finished the new identities with Sam's help. It turned out that money wasn't so much of an issue after all. Gabriel had been holding out on them. Apparently spending centuries on Earth meant that you had lots of secret bank accounts stashed all over the world, each one with a considerable amount of money and interest attached. And what was money to an archangel? He had no qualms about handing a bank account over to Jimmy and Claire, and to Jess and Charlie.

"You're going soft in your old age," Dean teased him as he and Castiel got ready to go hand the new papers over to Jimmy and Claire. They'd already sent on the ones for Bobby and John, along with a notably smaller sum of cash.

Gabriel leered at him. "Wait till you come home tonight. I'll show you exactly what's still hard."

Dean chuckled, sneaking in a quick kiss before he and Castiel flew to the motel. Unlike before, they appeared right in the motel room. Jimmy, who was sitting on the bed, barely reacted, much to Dean's disappointment. But Claire jumped and shrieked at their sudden appearance.

"Damn it, Cas, I told you not to do that!" she snapped once she'd recovered.

"This is how you talk to people who bring you gifts?" Dean asked her.

Claire froze, her head tipping to the side in a gesture she could've only learned from Castiel. "Presents?"

"Yup. You are now officially Claire Barone," Dean said, handing over her file. "This is everything you need to prove it, including grade transcripts." Charlie had thought of that one, sprinkling Claire's fake school history with mostly A's and B's.

"Why Barone?" Claire asked, pouting a little.

"Can't use Novak, it makes you too easy to find. Barone was the name attached to the account we set up for you," he replied. Gabriel had used several different aliases to set up his accounts. They'd picked one at random.

"There is banking information as well," Castiel said hesitantly, setting Jimmy's file on the bed within easy reach. "I'm told that it's enough to begin a new life."

Looking curious, Jimmy took the file and opened it. He flipped through until he found the banking statement. His jaw dropped. "Five million dollars?" he squeaked, voice reaching a pitch Dean wouldn't have thought possible. "That's..."

"Acceptable?" Castiel asked.

"That's... _more_ than acceptable," Jimmy said dazedly. "You didn't have to do that."

"I did promise to provide for your family."

Jimmy lifted his head and the two of them shared a look for a long moment. "Yeah, you did," he said quietly. "Thanks, Cas. For everything. I don't know where Claire and I are going yet. But when I do, I'll let you know. You're welcome to come visit. Both of you. Whenever you want."

"Thank you," Castiel said, and Dean knew how much it meant to him.

There was a little too much emotion in the room for his taste, so he decided to cut it short. "You should buy yourself a decent car and get moving," he said to Jimmy. "You've been here for a while. Don't want to attract the wrong kind of attention."

"We'll leave tonight," Jimmy said.

"Good luck, squirt," Dean said, ruffling Claire's hair. She ducked away, laughing, but let herself get pulled into a hug. Dean squeezed her once and then let go, none too subtly pushing her over to Castiel. For a moment he thought that Claire wouldn't do anything; she surprised them all when she grabbed the angel in a fierce hug.

Castiel hugged her back and she whispered something in his ear, too soft for Dean to hear. Claire nodded. Then she stepped back and walked over to sit down beside Jimmy. Dean moved a little closer, close enough for Castiel to touch his arm and fly them back to the bunker - just in time to witness Sam giving Jess an extended hug goodbye and catch the pouty look on Gabriel's face.

"What was that about not being jealous?" Dean asked in all innocence. Gabriel glared at him.

"We're heading to the con first," Charlie said as she hugged Dean goodbye. "I'm gonna introduce Jess to the world in style."

"You mean you're going to turn her into a dork," Dean said.

Charlie punched him as she pulled away, hugging Castiel and even Gabriel goodbye before she got into her car. Jess and Sam finally separated, and Dean noticed that her eyes were a little misty as she walked around the car to join Charlie. It may have been a trick of the light, but as the two women drove away he thought that Sam's were, too.

When Castiel moved closer to Sam, Dean was expecting him to offer some form of comfort. Instead, Castiel took hold of Sam's head and yanked him down into the deepest, filthiest kiss Dean had seen between them in a while. Sam sputtered a bit before he sank into it with a soft, muffled groan, his hands coming up to rest on Castiel's hips. Dean swallowed hard, his pulse definitely picking up a bit when he felt Gabriel's chest against his back.

"It's been way too long since the four of us were alone," Gabriel purred. "And I believe I made you a promise earlier."

"We were alone three days ago," Dean said, but he knew what Gabriel meant. It seemed so much longer. 

He turned around, taking Gabriel into his arms and opening up for a kiss. He felt Gabriel smile into the kiss and anticipated what was going to happen, catching the archangel when he jumped and looped his legs around Dean's waist. It still made him stagger a bit, because despite appearances Gabriel was not light, but he was steadied on either side by Castiel and Sam.

"I don't know about you guys, but I am completely ready to spend the rest of the day in bed. I'm beat," Sam said.

"We're going to bed, but I can't promise you'll get much sleep," Gabriel said.

"Don't worry, Gabriel. I'm sure we can come up with something to get Sam energized," said Castiel. His blue eyes were deep and aroused already, and he trailed his fingers through the hair at the base of Dean's head, sending chills down Dean's spine.

It had only been a couple of days, but a lot of the little things he hadn't even realized he was worrying about were now gone. Dean found himself smiling even as Gabriel dropped back down to the ground and darted towards the bunker, towing Sam behind him. He leaned into the arm that Castiel dropped around his shoulders as they followed with a quiet, "I'll take that challenge."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


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